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Possession of Treasured Wine
Sixty lunars of my years
With friends I thought so dear
Hoping the forged bonds can stay the ages
But a mere stone throws off gauges
On that day of eleven
Writing scrolls upon heated head
That I drop in rolls
That in fate I seal
To find in zeal
Thrown through shuttle
Agonizing tears across flutter
Waving hands to thyness above
Coldness cuts I feel alone
Sheering sleepless nights I thought
For all the pain sustained
Like sleeping on rose bed
Pushing beneath thorns me bled
In slain
Stepping onto solemn lane
Forgoing the slainful dust
I mount on with new bust
Welcome the warmth amist joyous tears
Bathing me heart in deep sea
Of cherished love
Of joy
Asking providence
What true friends might be
As the old man say
They are like treasured old wine
To be savoured in pleasure
For it will tend your wounds in leisure
-- 02/02/99
Commentary "Possession of Treasured Wine" is one of my earliest poetry works.It speaks of an invisible "caste" system of elitism in S'pore's education structure, of which I walked from one layer to the next lower by a "sad" twist of fate. "Sad" because I've suffered but grew greatly in the process. I thought I must as well write it down before social numbness got into me......
For a large part of my primary school life, I'm in this so-called "best class". During primary 5 final year exam, a high fever resulted in me merely passing all papers and thus, outcast from this class. "Outcast" is a very real word and feeling I've felt.
There I was, almost friendless, as my so-called friends of my "former" group just brushed pass my shoulders when they see me. I WAS NOT THEIR GROUP ANYMORE. An angonizing fact. In this sadness and tears, I made some strong friendships which endured till now.
I ask God, or anything high up, "what are true friends?" The answer I got is "true friends are like vintage port. To be savoured and enjoyed over almost eternity." With this...... I hope all who reads this till now, can find your true friends......
Copyright (c) 2008-2024, Maurice HT Ling
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